


Willie Scott and the Accidental Child Acquisition

by Tenillypo



Category: Indiana Jones Series
Genre: Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Golden Age Hollywood, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Indiana Jones' Dubious Absent Parenting, Past Indiana Jones/Willie Scott, Post-Temple of Doom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 11:50:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17043200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tenillypo/pseuds/Tenillypo
Summary: Willie Scott had a plan for her life. And then Short Round walked back through her door.





	Willie Scott and the Accidental Child Acquisition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoggledMonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoggledMonkey/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide GoggledMonkey! Thanks for the great prompt!

### New York, 1936

Willie did not go back to Missouri when she finally got back to the States. While it was true that in Missouri, there was rarely any danger of having your still beating heart ripped out of your chest, there were also no jobs, no money, and no men—just chickens, dust, and her mother, who'd told Willie when she left home that she'd never amount to anything.

So she followed Indiana Jones to Connecticut instead. It was fun until it wasn't, and when they couldn't stand the sight of one another for another second, she threw a shoe at his head and took off to the city. New York was crawling with nouveau riche socialites and Willie had a pocketful of precious gems gifted by a grateful Maharajah. She'd done more with less.

Short Round showed up on her doorstep in August. 

A heat wave had been gripping the nation for over a month, and anyone with any ability to do so was fleeing the oven of New York for the shore. Willie, who hadn't the means but did have the social connections, anticipated an invitation to join Edward Williams in the Hamptons would be arriving shortly. The fourth son of a shipping magnate, he had too much money, too little responsibility, and a great desire to scandalize his disapproving father by marrying below his station. Willie had high hopes of aiding him in that endeavor, but in the meantime, she was stuck slowly roasting in her apartment.

When the knock came at the door, she was laying in front of a rickety fan in just her shift and deeply uninclined to answer it.

But the knock was insistent. "NYPD, ma'am," a muffled male voice called, and she reluctantly hauled herself up off the couch, grimacing as she pulled her silk robe over her sweaty back.

Sure enough, a stocky police officer stood on the other side of the door.

"Can I help you, officer—" she began, and then a short blur launched itself at her, wrapping its skinny arms around her waist with the strength of a tiny, but determined octopus.

"Willie!" the octopus exclaimed.

Willie peered down in astonishment, then back up at the cop. She felt vaguely like the world was playing a trick on her.

The cop just squinted suspiciously. "Are you Willie Scott?"

She nodded.

He grunted. "Well, I'll be… they said downstairs you was a dame, but I still didn't—" he cut himself off, then doffed his cap, seeming to belatedly remember that he was, in fact, addressing a women. "I caught this kid picking pockets downtown. Says you're his guardian."

"Did he," she said flatly.

"He did, ma'am," the cop confirmed, either oblivious or uncaring of her tone. "And I was just as happy to avoid the paperwork of locking him up, to be frank. But if he's lying, I'll just take him off your hands—"

Willie looked down again. Pleading eyes peered up at her from underneath overgrown bangs.

She took a deep, trying breath. "No, that's all right, officer—?"

"Barnes, ma'am."

"Well, Office Barnes, I can assure you that this young man will not be out pick pocketing again."

The officer had no sooner disappeared into the elevator when the octopus promptly disengaged himself, peering curiously around her into the half open apartment door.

"Shorty, what are you doing here? You supposed to be—" she cut herself off abruptly, glancing up and down the hall. She wouldn't put it past old Mrs. Van der Hoff in 5B to have her ear to the door, taking in every word. The woman was a busybody and a menace.

She hustled him inside, shutting the door firmly behind her. "You are supposed to be at school," she said firmly. "In Connecticut."

"It's summer!" he protested. Eight months of regular meals had filled him out a little, although he was still awfully scrawny. And a short as his moniker implied.

Willie crossed her arms. "Then you should be with Indiana, not stealing from tourists!"

Shorty scowled, tugging at his cap. "He's busy. He wants me to stay at school all summer. But I don't like it there. So I left."

"And came to the city all by yourself?"

He grinned. "Very easy! I just get on a train and hide when they come looking for tickets."

Of course. Willie threw her hands up. "Look, kid, no one likes school. But we all still have to go and so do you." Short Round's dubious expression spoke volumes of his opinion of this argument. "Besides," she tried, "you promised Indy you'd study hard, didn't you? How else will you become a famous archeologist?" 

In fact, he'd talked of little else on the long journey to America: the Yankees' chances this year, how much his elephant must be missing him back in India, and how he was going to become an archeologist just like Indy and spend his life going on glamorous adventures.

Based on her time with Indiana Jones, Willie suspected the job qualifications involved less book learning and more street brawls, but mentioning Shorty's idol did the trick: his mutinous look had turned slightly guilty. She quickly pressed her advantage:

"Does he even know you're here? If the school calls him to say you're missing, he'll be worried sick!"

He shrugged. Willie took that to mean, no, Indy had no idea his erstwhile protégé was in the city instead of tucked in safe and sound at his boarding school. Which meant _she_ had to call him, and that was the last thing she needed right now. Especially considering how badly their last conversation had gone. The man's insufferable ego would probably see it as a sign she'd been pining for him all this time.

***

"What do you mean, you can't tell me where he went. Does he work there or not?" Willie snapped into the phone. She'd already been transferred to three secretaries at Marshall College and now some man named Brody was blabbering at her incoherently. "The government? What would the government want with an archeologist, for god's sake?"

By the time she finally hung up, the only thing she could say for sure was that yes, Professor Jones did still work there and no, there was zero chance of contacting him right now. 

"I told you, Doctor Jones is busy," Short Round said, seemingly unconcerned. He was sprawled on the couch, fanning himself with his cap.

"He's gonna be busy getting his face punched when I catch up with him," Willie muttered. It was just typical, honestly. Of course he'd go jaunting off on another adventure and leave her to clean up his mess.

"Don't worry, Willie," Shorty said with supreme confidence. "Indy has important work. But he will come find us when it's done."

Indiana Jones showing up on her doorstep too was the last thing Willie needed. "Yeah, well, until he does, we need to get you back to school."

Shorty's face fell. "I thought… I could stay here with you," he said, then quickly added, "just for a little while, maybe?" 

The hope on his face was hard to take. "Shorty—" she began.

"Just the weekend," he begged. "The Yankees are playing tomorrow."

Willie bit her lip. "Just the weekend," she said, against her better judgment.

***

It was too hot to cook—not that Willie had much skill in that area to begin with—so she left to grab some sandwiches from the deli down the street. When she got back, Short Round was nowhere to be seen. 

"Shorty?" she called, and followed the silence into the bedroom, where she found him standing by the desk, a wad of papers clutched in his hand. "What are you—oh," she said.

He looked up, eyes wide. "Willie, you write this?"

"It's nothing kid," she told him, feeling her face heat. "Just some scribblings." Edward had certainly thought so when she showed them to him. But she couldn't seem to stop fiddling with the writing. 

The names on the characters were different, of course. And she had made some other adjustments. The dashing archaeologist was a noble gentleman, and madly in love with the beautiful ingenue, as was the evil cult leader who kidnapped her. She could just see it: Errol Flynn and William Powell battling it out over her—because of course she'd have to play herself.

"But it's us!" Shorty's face lit up. "Us in a _movie_!" 

"It's just a silly dream." She hesitated, then sat down on the bed. "But do you really like it?"

He nodded enthusiastically. 

"Well, I suppose you have some good taste, after all," Willie said, looking down to hide her pleasure at the compliment. "Come on, let's eat."

They talked about the potential movie of their adventures over dinner. Shorty was a fan of _The Thin Man_ and couldn't see Powell as a villain.

"You need someone scary," he insisted with all the scorn of an eleven year old explaining the obvious to a dumb adult. "Mola Ram was very scary."

They both shuddered.

"But he has to be appealing, don't you see? It's a love triangle in this version." Willie laughed as his disgusted expression. "How do you know so much about movies, anyway?" The kid had opinions on everything from plot to casting to special effects.

He grinned. "Tai-Phung Theater shows American movies. Every day, I sneak in and watch."

Willie remembered the Tai-Phung. She'd gone to a few films there herself. It was strange to think of her and Shorty living in Shanghai at the same time, lives coming so close to intersecting, but never actually meeting up until she literally fell into his car.

"And no one ever caught you?" she asked, curious.

"Sometimes. But then I just run. No one ever runs as fast as me. Not even Chu."

"Chu?" 

"My brother. He was older, but I was faster. My mother always said 'Li is fast as a fox."

He said the words carelessly, but in all the time they'd spent together, Shorty had barely ever mentioned his family. "Li? Is that your real name?" He nodded. "Why don't you go by that now?"

Shorty looked at her as if the question made no sense. "Indy calls me Shorty."

The streets of Shanghai were littered with orphans just like Short Round. Most of the Western men she knew treated the city's poor like they were invisible. No had been kind to Willie when she was a child and needed help, so she always tried to slip the child beggars a little something if she could. The care he showed for Short Round was one of the things that had made her like Indy, despite everything else that made her want to punch him. 

"Well," she said, "I think someone should call you by the name your mother gave you." He gave her a startled smile, broken by a yawn. "All right, Li, go wash up. It's late."

"But—"

"No buts, go! And don't forget to wash behind your ears," she called after him. Willie had only the vaguest notions of what children required, but she was fairly certain that washing them behind their ears played a big role. 

***

The Yankees beat the Philly Athletics 4-0, and Li was in raptures for the rest of the day. Willie had never been much for sports, but his enthusiasm was a little infectious. She bought him an ice cream and retreated from the day's heat to a late afternoon showing of the new Clark Gable picture. 

"I like the part where everything shakes," he told her as they walked home, and threw his arms up in the air. "Boom!"

"The word is earthquake," she said. "I liked the parts with the singing." The club scenes had reminded her of how much she missed performing, and also how much she didn't miss being under Lao Che's thumb.

"She sings pretty good," Li admitted, before adding loyally, "but not as good as you."

Willie snorted. Jeanette MacDonald was a renowned soprano, which Willie was definitely not. Li gave her a slow wink that she was sure he'd learned straight off of Indiana Jones. "All right, take it easy, charmer," she told him, charmed, despite herself.

They came upon an open fire hydrant surrounded by neighborhood children shrieking and splashing. Li turned to her with pleading eyes. 

"Oh no," Willie said, but it was too late, he'd already jumped in with the rest of them. 

"Come on, Willie," he called, "it feels good."

"Don't you dare splash me," she told him, backing up. "Don't you dar—" She tripped over the curb and sat with a great splash.

Short Round doubled over in laughter that turned into a shriek as she got up to chase him. The other children roared with delight and then it was a mad scramble, everyone running and kicking waves and falling over, and Willie found herself laughing too, helplessly. It did feel good.

***

By the time they got back to her apartment, her wet clothes were just starting to stiffen. Willie could tell by the strange looks from passersby that her hair was a lost cause and ignored them with as much dignity as she could muster. 

"Run and go change out of those wet things so they can dry by tomorrow," she told Li as she opened the door. "I'll dig up something for you to wear in the meanti—Edward!" For he was standing in her living room.

Edward turned with a smile. "There you are. I've come to rescue you." He stopped, obviously taking in her bedraggled appearance. "And not a moment too soon, I see. My god, what happened to you? You look like a drowned rat."

Willie smoothed a hand over he wrecked hair self consciously. Edward, of course, was dressed and groomed impeccably, not a hair out of place despite what must have been an uncomfortable drive back into the city. A single bead of sweat along his dark hairline was the only concession to the heat.

"We had a little adventure."

"We?"

Li shoved in front of her, peering at Edward with deep suspicion. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"Shorty!" she admonished. "This is a very good friend of mine, so be nice."

"That's all right." Edward bent over, offering his hand. "Edward Williams, at your service, my boy. I'm a friend of Willie's."

Li just scowled. "You call her Ms. Scott."

Willie held her breath, but Edward looked amused. "Quite right. My apologies, Ms. Scott."

"I met Li in Shanghai," she explained. "He's at the Milford Academy now." She turned to Li. "What did I say, go take those wet clothes off."

When Li reluctantly left the room, Edward raised his eyebrows. 

"I know," she said. "He just showed up."

"Nevermind that," Edward said, visibly dismissing the problem from his mind. He grabbed her hand. "Are you packed? Father's at the house and he's in a fabulous mood over the Wilson deal. I think it's the perfect time to announce our engagement."

Willie's froze. This was it—what she'd been working toward these past months. But… "The kid," she said. "I need to get him back to his school."

Edward shrugged. "He's at Milford, you said? We'll drop him at the station on the way."

"Now? It will be the middle of the night when he gets in."

Edward sighed. "First thing tomorrow, then." He leaned in for a kiss. "The things I do for you… like spend another night in this miserable city." He looked around her apartment. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to come back with me to my place."

Willie smiled wryly. "The kid?" 

"Right, right. Well, I'm off, then. I'll see you tomorrow." He leaned in for a longer kiss. "Future Mrs. Williams."

As soon as the door closed, Li came out, eyes blazing. "You kissed him!" he accused.

"Anyone ever teach you eavesdropping isn't polite?"

"He said you're going to marry him!"

"Yes. I am."

The admission seemed to take wind out of Li's sails. "But—" he said, face crumbling, "but what about Indy?"

Willie stared, baffled by this turn in the conversation. "What about him? He's off gallivanting God knows where."

"But when he comes back, you can get married. We can be a family."

Oh. Willie blinked, momentarily rendered speechless. "You thought me and Indy—oh, Shorty," she said and laughed, cutting off abruptly at his hurt expression. "You know that's never going to happen, right?" she continued, more gently.

Shorty made a soft, hurt sound. "Because you're ruining it!"

"Li…" Willie felt very out of her depth. "You know that Indy cares about you very much. And he'll always make sure you're taken care of. But he's not really the settling down type." She smiled sadly. "And the two of us would probably kill each other if we ever tried. We'd make a terrible family."

"No, you wouldn't," he insisted. "You fight sometimes but you still come save each other. That's what family does." 

Willie sighed. "Life's more than wild adventures. And in the real world, we'd drive each other crazy. I'm sorry, kid."

Li scrubbed at his face angrily. When she tentatively reached out, he shrugged her off.

Willie frowned, unsure of what to do. This wasn't supposed to be be how this night went. Edward had all but proposed. She should be ecstatic; instead, all she felt was a roaring emptiness.

"Come on," she said finally, "let's get cleaned up and I'll get us some dinner."

Li whipped his damp shirt off and threw it at her, defiant. "You eat," he spat. 'I'm not hungry." 

Willie stared, stunned. His torso was littered with yellowing bruises; on his back, the faded scars from his whipping in Pankot were overlaid with what looked like newer lines.

"Shorty," she gasped. "What happened to you?"

"I told you, I don't like it at the school."

"The other boys did this to you?"

He shrugged. Willie felt a surge of fury. 

"The boys... and the teachers?" she guessed.

He nodded. "They say I talk funny. They say I look funny. They say I don't belong."

They'd promised Li he'd have a better life in America. Indy had told him he'd have a safe home here. "Does Indy know about this?" she said, as calmly as she could.

He shook his head. "If you make me go back, I will run away again."

"You're not going back, kid. I promise," she said, realizing as she did that she absolutely mean it. "Now tell everything." 

***

"Stay out of sight, will you?" she told Li when Edward knocked the next morning. She had a feeling this conversation would go better without an audience.

"Ready?" Edward was already bouncing on his toes when she opened the door. "If we leave now, we can probably get here in time for lunch. I can't wait to see the look on his face." He walked past her into the apartment, looking around. "Where are your bags?"

Willie took a deep breath and turned around. "Change of plans," she said as brightly as she could. "Li's not going back to Milford."

Edward frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean they've been abusing him there, Edward. The other boys bully him, and the headmaster took a switch to him for fighting back."

She'd hoped to see a look of shock on his face, but all she read was puzzlement. "Of course, children can be cruel," he said. "But discipline must be maintained."

"Edward, surely you see that I can't send him back there," Willie said. "He's already been through so much." She put on her most winning smile and stepped close, playfully tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Can't he stay with us a little while, just until I figure something else out?"

Edward drew back, looking alarmed. "You can't possibly expect to bring him with us."

"Well, I haven't got any other choice, have I? 

"Of course you have! Just send him back to that school of his. Let them sort it out. Christ, Willie, you're not his mother."

"He's not safe there!"

He scoffed. "A little beating never hurt any boy. It'll toughen him up."

Willie stared at him, aghast. "I can't believe you would say that." 

"I can't believe we're even having this conversation," Edward said, voice cold. "Sticking it to the old man is one thing, but if I show up with a Chinese street urchin in tow, I'll be a laughing stock."

Willie crossed her arms. "Well, I'm not leaving without him."

Edward laughed incredulously. "Are you giving me an ultimatum? Well, here's one for you: I am walking out that door in ten seconds and if you're not with me alone, then that's it."

Willie firmed her jaw. "Then I guess that's it!"

Edward's face blanched. She turned away, but he grabbed her arm and roughly spun her back around. "You're seriously choosing him over me?" he demanded.

"Let go," she said, tugging her arm, but his grip only tightened. Willie's breath quickened. She'd never seen him this angry before; the wound to his pride was too much. Men like Edward, she knew, lived only for their pride.

"You're going to regret this," Edward promised, giving her a little shake. "You're done in society, you'll be out on the street—" he cut off abruptly with a pained grunt. Willie looked down—Li had appeared out of nowhere and delivered a well placed kick right where it counted most. 

Edward released her immediately, doubling over. "You little bastard," he gasped. 

"Yes, that's quite enough, Edward," Willie said firmly. "Consider this a formal rejection of your proposal." She pushed him out the door and quickly slammed it shut, turning the lock.

"And don't come back," Li shouted. Willie winced. Mrs. Van der Hoff was certainly getting an earful today.

"Oh my god," she said, and sat down blindly on the sofa, the weight of what she'd just done sinking in. "I just turned down a fortune."

Li beamed at her. "You see? Family."

"I guess so," she said faintly. "Say, kid, how do you feel about going to see Hollywood?"

### Epilogue: Los Angeles, 1938

Willie looked up at the sounds of voices speaking Chinese outside the window of her cozy little bungalow. The new China City tourist attraction had opened recently, and Li had made quick friends out of some of the performer's children, who all lived on site. She thought the whole thing rather tacky, but it was good work for some of the displaced businesses from the old Chinatown.

They must be standing on the front walk. Willie's Mandarin was rusty, but good enough to pick up one of the boys asking if Li really lived here.

"Yes, with my mom," Li replied, a little closer to the window, and Willie straightened in surprise, throat catching. He'd never called her mom in English before. "She makes movies with all the stars." 

There was a chorus of impressed sounding noises from the other boys, followed by a question she didn't quite catch. "No," Li said, "even better. She _writes_ the movies. And sometimes I help."

Willie smiled at the pride in his voice, stepping back from the window. _The Temple of Doom_ came out at the end of last year to solid reviews. Carol Lombard had gotten praise for her turn as the screwball singer who gets caught between Cary Grant's adventurer and Tyrone Power's charismatic cult leader. Li made her see it five times in the theater.

A few minutes later, there was a jangle as the front door opened, then the excited thumps of Little Elephant, the enormous shaggy dog she'd finally let him adopt, running to greet Li as he stepped into the entry. 

"Willie," he called, "there's a telegram from Indy. He's heading to Italy. Something about the holy grail."

"That man," she muttered, shaking her head, then raised her voice: "Tell him to send me the details. DeMille's always in the market for something biblical."

Li stuck his head in her office, higher on the door frame than she was used to. In the last few months he'd shot up nearly six inches. At this rate, his nickname would soon be ironic only. "Did the studio call back?"

She kept her face still, straightening the papers on her desk. "They did."

Li darted into the room. "Well? What did they say?"

She kept him in suspense for a few more moments and then turned, holding out the contract: Wilhelmina Scott, officially employee of Paramount Pictures. "They liked it."

"Holy smokes." Li reached out for the contract with reverent hands. 

"No more freelancing." They grinned at each other. The contract wasn't much, but it meant steady work—enough to keep their little household comfortable for the next several years. "I think this calls for a celebration, don't you? Go on, grab my bag. We'll go get ice cream."

He scrambled for the door, all gangly limbs and enthusiasm. "Li," she called, suddenly overcome. When had he gotten so big? She thought of all the ways her life could have turned out differently: if she'd stayed in Shanghai, eking out a few more years of the good life, only to flee before the Japanese; if she'd become a trophy wife to that pompous jackass, stuck in a loveless life of luxury. So many different paths, all of them empty.

Li had turned expectantly. "Just... thanks, kid," she said, hoping he'd understand what she meant. 

He smiled. "Sure, Willie. Any time."


End file.
